Loss
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go.   Author Unknown
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(A revamp of the original 'Loss', the redo of the second chapter should come along soon! Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>There was a stiff breeze blowing tonight, Axe noticed as he stood on the Citadel's highest balcony, gazing out over the twisting sands that danced and writhed like tongues of flame outside of the city, flashing silver in the moonlight that pierced the fog of space.<p>

He sighed, dropping down slightly to lean against the railing, the stars captivating him as he heard the heavy tred of his mate enter their berth chamber. "Are you still up?" the big blue triple changer asked in surprise as he was revealed from the shadows by the casual switch of a light.

Axe hummed a confirmation, casting a small thin, flat smile over his shoulder strut, "Just stargazing."

Dai Atlas, his mate, the warrior that legends of a distant cyber planet sang of, frowned, "Axe." The tone was grave, conflicted, as if he were wary of how Axe might reply. "It's not healthy."

"I'm fine." The ebony mech replied, his fake cheer making the Leader of the circle wince. "I'll go recharge soon, I promise."

Sighing heavily, the Triple changer approached, his dark blue servo resting on a black shoulder, the slightly smaller mech flinching at the tender touch. "I'm worried about you Axe."

"You don't need to worry about me." Axe said firmly, a flare of anger passing through the cheer, blue optics flashing as the black shoulder dipped, the servo sliding free from where it rested.

"Our sparkling died." Dai Atlas said softly, gripping his mate's wrist as Axe lashed out at the reminder, one that would forever haunt them until they joined Wing in the Well of Sparks. "Don't fight me Axe." He rumbled pleadingly as he held his mate back from attacking him. "Please don't."

Blue optics widened at his plea, the wrist in Dai Atlas' servo going limp as Axe realised what he had been about to do. "Dai." The ebony mech whispered, the vocaliser hissing the grief. "What's happening to us Dai?"

"It'll be alright." The Triple Changer hushed, tugging his mate into an embrace, "You're grieving because of my mistake. I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry."

The golden detailing on Axe's frame glowed as Dai Atlas coaxed him into the warmth of their chambers, the glass doors hissing shut behind them as the Leader of the circle lay upon his berth, dragging his Chosen down with him and enveloping him in an embrace.

_**==Next Sunrise==**_

The morning light, golden and warm, blinded Axe the moment he onlined his optics. He sighed as he rolled onto his side, surprised that Dai Atlas was missing from his side. An unexplainable fear and anguish took hold, latching on with bright talons as he practically jumped from the berth, backpedalling until he collided with the wall, his armour rattling with fear as the Carrier programming that had went into turmoil when Wing had died flared, putting irrational thoughts in his processor.

Where was Dai Atlas? He was always there. Why wasn't he there? Did he die too?

"Axe?" the voice of another knight made him jump, his servo flying for his axe, the Knight squeaking in terror as the much larger mech realised who had addressed him, unfortunately after he had managed to lodge the blade of his trusty axe in the doorframe.

"Sprocket?" the black mech asked, completely puzzled as to why the other black mech with violet tribal markings crisscrossing his frame was peering warily at him from the doorframe. The Glider smiled softly, tilting his helm, his ruby optics, one highlighted by a stray curve of a marking, glinted with sympathy.

"Sir," the young mech nodded, "Dai Atlas is in the Remembrance Room. He was concerned about you, so I volunteered to come and check on you."

"Oh." Axe said, feeling foolish and mentally beating down the irrational fear his haywire protocols and broken bond with his youngling had spawned into the darkness of his processor. "Thank you Sprocket."

Pressing past Wing's sparkling-hood friend, Axe strode down the corridor, eager, yet terrified of being in his mate's presence.

Eager, because he could confirm that his lover and the Sire of his dead sparkling was still with him and hadn't been stolen away like their precious Wing had been.

Terrified, because the blame and grief between them only seemed to intensify every time they glanced at each other...

Composing himself, he rose his helm and lengthened his stride, giving off the strong, powerful presence he usually bore with such ease. But now it felt like a heavy weight, dragging him further away from the knights who would sit and laugh with him. Did they know, on some subconscious level, that he was suffering? Slowly watching as his bond with the mech he loved became less and less used, the blame of their creation's deactivation shifting and curling between them, preventing reconciliation and the ability to grieve together properly.

He nodded to Dart as she bristled past, her arms full of training swords for the class of younglings that she and Sprocket had taken on nearly four vorns ago, grumbling to herself about the convenience of her disappearing partner.

Smiling softly, he entered the Remembrance Room.

The Remembrance Room was a large beautiful room at the centre of the citadel. Prayers to Primus etched painstakingly into the very walls with rich rare fabric tapestries depicting Primus and various mystic poems. The memorials themselves were small allotments of metal sword brackets, the metal plating and wiring of the Knight that was left after it was scavenged for parts, melted down into a sword stand, their name engraved boldly on the front with their Great Swords set into them and then both were welded to the floor to remain standing for eternity.

Wing's sword bracket was empty, rare desert blooms that a friend of Wing's had found were scattered before it, the white and silver petals half shielding a toy that would have been more at home in a sparkling's tank than at the memorial sword bracket. Dai Atlas was kneeling, finishing a small prayer to Primus before rocking back to sit on the heels of his pedes, his own Great Sword tilting as it was forced to the side.

Axe hooded his optics respectfully and muttered his own prayer for the sparks of his deactivated comrades to find peace and happiness, before he knelt next to his mate whose servo was hovering almost unsure over the small turbo-eagle doll before he lifted it into his palm, the worn and slightly chewed wings flopping back as the mostly blue mech supported it in his palm.

"Atlas?" Axe whispered, his ruby opticked mate casting a glance to him.

"Axe." The Triple Changer nodded, an accepting rumble as his mate, nervously, for the first time since their creation's death at the hands of the Slave Trader Braid, made the first move. Black fingers brushed with the servo that held Wing's old toy, a silent acknowledgement of what they shared; bitterness, anguish, guilt, blame, and subtly, a willingness to start again.

Gently, Dai Atlas leaned towards his mate, ruby optics searching azure as they pressed their forehelms together, their bond flaring open, love, forgiveness, a desperate need being exchanged. "Thank you." Dai Atlas rumbled, as he placed Wing's toy back against the sword bracket, bringing up his servo to caress Axe's cheekplating. "For giving me a second chance."

As Axe made to reply, an old playful light shining in his optics, a Knight rushed into the Remembrance Room, a soft prayer flying from his lip plates in respect for the dead as he skidded to a stop before the two Leaders of the Circle of Light.

"Dai Atlas, Sir." The Knight saluted as the two rose in concern, "There is a problem in Sector Fifteen; we have picked up a foreign distress signal… They are hailing as the Wreckers…"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Revamp of Chapter 2! Enjoy!)

* * *

><p><em><strong>===Several Millennia Ago= Cybertron=== <strong>_

The door to the apartment creaked as he tried to stealthily infiltrate his living quarters well into the recharge cycle. He winced, watching the door slide into the wall with a final shrill shriek and snarky thud as it stopped. "I really need to fix that." He muttered sourly as he heard the tell tale wail of his sparkling waking at the sounds of an intruder.

He quickly deviated from his course to his berth, stopping as he saw the crib of his sparkling illuminated by the twin moons of Cybertron's light, beaming through the window into the cheerfully coloured nursery. Smiling fondly, he approached the ornate heirloom that contained his only sparkling.

The baby was currently rocking backwards and forwards on its back strut, clutching at its black toe-plates, golden optics blinking blearily into the silver light that streamed through the window as if, perhaps, the youngling was confused as to where daylight had disappeared to.

"Wing." He rumbled, tenderly, a far cry from his usual gruff tone when he addressed the Circle of Light. The reaction was immediate. The youngling, hearing its Sire's call, immediately, trilled, squeaked, cooed and warbled in the language of the young, tiny servos waving madly as Wing caught sight of Dai Atlas appearing out of the gloom. "Hello, to you too, little one." He acknowledged, lifting the tiny jet, whose complex, beautiful wings flared out in the simple joy of seeing his Sire. "You're supposed to be recharging."

The little faceplate scrunched up in disapproval, little pedes kicking at the air as smoke coughed from the turbines on the jets back. "No flying, Wing." He admonished, reaching into the sparkling tank and drawing out Wing's favourite toy.

Giving a purr of adoration, Wing grabbed his turbo-eagle toy and promptly began chewing thoroughly on the wings. Chuckling, Dai Atlas put his sparkling down into the crib, and gently rocked the suspended tank, encouraging his offspring back into recharge. Little golden optics dimmed, tiny denta slowing their enthusiastic chewing on his toy as the sparkling calmed and returned to his innocent dreams.

"Dai?" a voice from the door asked, almost still half in recharge, "I heard Wing."

"He's back in recharge." The blue plated mech assured, turning with a warm smile to see Axe, his mate's blue optics flickering slightly, from lack of proper charge, probably from looking after their sparkling all orn. "You look tired love."

The black plated mech snorted, bringing up a servo to rub at his optics, making Dai Atlas snicker slightly as Wing mimicked his Carrier in his recharge. "Understatement of the centi-vorn." The smaller black mech grumbled, turning on his pede and stalking back into their berth room. "It's your turn to look after our adorable bundle of parts next orn."

Chuckling softly, so as not to reawaken their sparkling in the next room; Dai Atlas reached forward and grabbed his mate, dragging the startled black plated mech close for a soft kiss before they settled in each other's loving embrace.

_**===Present=New Crystal City=== **_

Dai Atlas jerked back to himself, jumping slightly when Axe gently rested a servo on his plating before the black mech moved towards the keyboard panel of the Control Room, all of the Knights around them frowning at the footage and the message that followed as Axe brought it up on screen.

The wreckage on the screen was impressive; half of the ship had broken off on entry into the planet's atmosphere and was somewhere further back along the trench the ship had gouged out of the planet's surface between the canyons walls it had jammed itself in. A few mechs were already up and about surveying the damage, all of them foreign to the Circle Leader's optics.

"Soar." He rumbled, the called mech responding with an immediate chime of acknowledgement, his image appearing on the screen, "Do not approach unless they truly need assistance. There is no point revealing ourselves needlessly."

"Yes, sir." The silver jet nodded in acknowledgement, incline his spiked helm, the green gem on his Great Sword almost glowing a translucent grass green under the harsh rays of the sun as he spoke over the holo-comm. "It appears that Drift is with them."

The others in the room froze, Sprocket and Dart, two of Wing's closest friends exchanged worried glances as they spotted Axe stiffen, his fingers tightening almost with metal bending force on the consol. Dai Atlas frowned and deliberated for a moment before giving his orders. "Very well, extend our greetings."

_**===Crash Site=== **_

"That's the last time I let you pilot anything, while I'm on board," Springer grumbled to a red mech as he managed to heave himself out of some wreckage with a little help from Drift, cursing as his pede got tangled in large metal cabling, forcing him to hang suspended as he slid free of the twisted husk of what was once a ship.

"At least I didn't kill anybody," Perceptor sniffed, clearly insulted, "Anyway, I didn't see you coming up with anything better than 'Just shoot back at them'."

"Here we go, I found the tension cable," Drift said, swiping through the metal cabling with his two hip swords and freeing the leader of the Wreckers, who fell to the sandy ground with a flurry of movement and curses with a satisfying metal clang.

"You did that on purpose!" the green mech declared in annoyance up at the white mech that gave him a not so innocent smirk as the Wrecker re-righted himself, sand and grit pouring out of the gaps in his armour.

"You have a hard helm, get over it." Kup said jumping down with a creak of joints, "Anyway if you were even paying attention to the landscape you'd see we were surrounded."

Drift's helm snapped up to the cliff where a Knight was standing in the glare of the sun, the gem in his sword casting rainbows of green over his silver plating, emerald optics narrowed suspiciously down at them as the Wreckers took aim with their guns. In response, the mech slid into an attack stance, two bladed tonfa held in his grasp and as much as Drift didn't want to admit it he recognised that mech.

"Wait." Drift said, standing in the path of the guns, the Knight straightening with a dark look in his optics, "I know that mech. Leave him be. Anyway, in case you haven't spotted them, there are more of them."

True enough, more Knights had appeared on the cliff lip, peering down at them, with their sword gems glinting every colour of the rainbow, each sword singing with a powerful hum that Wing's old sword replied to with a lark like scream of joy, the blue gem blazing with an otherworldly lightning.

The mech with the green gemmed Great Sword, leapt off the cliff edge, his thrusters firing on to slow his decent, "It has been a while, Decepticon." Soar greeted, the spikes on his helm flaring in obvious disapproval as he crossed his arms, his pedes touching the ground as the fine sand rippled about him.

"Glad to see you haven't changed much either, Soar." Drift replied dryly, even as he sensed the Wreckers stand down.

"A moment of your time, Decepticon." Soar asked with a mocking tone and a sulphurous glare as the white ex-Decepticon approached him so that they didn't have to raise their voices to each other to communicate.

"My name is Drift." Drift said glaring right back his servos clenching at his sides. "Please remember it.

Soar gave him another poisonous look before offering Dai Atlas' message, "The Circle of Light welcomes you back into the fold. You and your… friends are welcome to stay as long as you desire."

Drift couldn't help but feel that message was like acid in Soar's mouth and vocal unit, but he couldn't help the flare of guilty joy it brought him to see Soar squirm. "Could you tell Dai Atlas we accept?" he asked neutrally trying not to aggravate the silver jet that flared his helm spikes again like an earth bird he had looked up once. A cockatoo, if he remembered correctly.

"Fine," Soar said clearly resenting Drift for accepting the offer as the other Knight's descended or skittered down the rock face like nimble lizards, approaching the Wreckers curiously, like sparklings seeing a toy for the first time. "If you would follow us, Decepticon, we provide better accommodation that this dreary canyon, after all."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R!

(This has been a long time coming, thanks to Ultra Rodimus for poking me about getting this up! Enjoy!)

* * *

><p>Axe sighed, leaning on one of the Citadel's great columns gazing out onto the desert, the heat haze warping the horizon as if it were now a dancing horizontal flame. Dust flushed from his vents, the silvery grains catching the wind to swirl about his helm, before taking to the sky to scatter far below him. A cyber-hawk, one of the few creatures of Cybertron they had been able to save and bring along to this new world screamed in rapturous joy as it slowly circled high above the city, the tiny multi-thrusters hidden between its metal feathers leaving a coiled trail of heat, its handler, watching with a brooding, loving optic from a roof top that Axe overlooked.<p>

Axe's spark ached at the beauty, his optics following every needless beat of the hawk's wings. He tilted his helm so that it rested on the pillar that dwarfed even him, a servo resting on the cool shadowed metal, anchoring himself so that he wouldn't leap into the sky to join the blissfully unaware animal high above, humming gently as he heard his mate approach along the walkway. "They'll be here soon." Dai Atlas rumbled, stepping up to stand beside his gold highlighted bonded, both careful not to touch or make optic contact, less it ruin the fumbling step towards forgiveness they had offered each other in the Remembrance Room.

"What did the Master Knights say?" he asked back, his spark picking up Dai Atlas' unintentional throb of internal conflict across their millennia old connection.

"They are… receptive of Drift's return, but I want to run it past the entirety of the Elder Knights in a gathering." The giant Triple Changer frowned to himself, his white servos flexing with a troubled itch, remembering a time when he used to embrace Axe from behind upon this very spot. They would bask in the view of the prospering underground city, their love, the closeness of their frames and the perfectness of their new existence, but that was before Wing crept up to the forbidden surface, before their sparkling rescued the stranded Decepticon called Drift, before the Slavers, before Braid took his spear to Wing's spark and erased the youngling they had created, nurtured and loved from their lives. Before Axe shut himself away, embroiled with guilt and hurt. Their bond, their perfect synchronised resonance thrown off kilter as the black mech shut him out with all the impact of round of Anti-Arial missiles straight to his chest.

Contrary to Axe's belief that all of the Slavers had been burned and their ashes left to soil the pit in which they had been dumped in with spite and disgust on that fateful evening after the battle flush had drained, shamefully, Dai Atlas had taken his own personal revenge on Braid's -almost cleaved in two- corpse. He had taken the alien apart in his grief, rendering enhanced purple flesh asunder with his bare servos before crushing the fragile skull under-pede before finally tossing the remains into the fiery pit in a rage that something so fragile and organic could kill his sparkling of metal and circuitry.

A Council member had been present at his break in coherency; Sprocket's great grand-carrier, the aged violet Glider femme with glowing golden tribal tattoos, whose designation, once translated from the harmonics of Ancient Cybertronian into the modern tongue, bizarrely became, Mother. She watched with a wicked glint of approval in her emerald optics as she deliberately turned her back so as to feign ignorance, even as her Great Sword, the golden gemmed, Hearth of the Warrior, glimmered in watchful, reserved judgement.

She had helped him wash away the alien's fluids and clinging flesh in the cleanser afterwards, speaking with her old understanding, mothering tones that even Dai Atlas respected, _"You're vengeance is complete, Dai Atlas, the alien's desecration ensures him no rest in the Well of his people. But now look to the living, look to Axe, look to what remains after loss." _

He was broken from his brooding as Axe shifted, blue optics and the flash of a gold chevron tilted over a shoulder strut, moving with a nervous slowness, almost as if what he was about to do would be rejected violently. Dai Atlas rumbled gently, his engine purring with a pleased lull when an ebony servo captured his own, fingers twining tightly as the tri-horned Triple Changer finally turned to his bonded, his free hand capturing the startled Axe's faceplate with a feather light grip, thumb stroking the bright silver cheek plating as he drew their lips together.

_**===Dai Atlas===**_

The council had gathered grudgingly, much to his private amusement.

Several of the newer Elder rank Knights were shuttering their optic in bright curiosity at the abrupt meeting as the others merely rolled their optics and chattered among themselves. Axe sat regally next to him as he always did, the Black Sentry, as a diplomatic femme had once described him in an official document back to the Council of Iacon after a polite bureaucratic visit many vorns ago before they had retreated into the stars. His mate rarely spoke out in these meetings, his voice reserved for solving heated arguments that got a little to rowdy, speaking only if it was required, a brilliant contrast to his leading rumble.

He cast an amused look to his side, momentarily forgetting the painful rift, to secretly gesture to one of the more… aged members of the Council of Light that was half in recharge, nearly slumped over into his embarrassed neighbours lap. His ruby optics met blank ocean, his half chuckle dropping like a stone into a self conscious frown at the barren look, concern radiating towards his bonded by a subtle flare of his wings. His mate's lip-plates twitched softly in what could have been amusement, his optics startlingly neutral, a disturbing change from the bright flare that they usually gave off when Axe was happy. He was distracted slightly when a soft push of silent laughter at the dozing Elder Knight echoing in his helm through their precious bond.

"First Order." He rumbled, casting his gaze out to the tiers of Elder Knights scattered in a circle before him, the spotlight of natural sun, radiating the almost sacred room with a light heat that was tempered with the cooling whirr of their internal fans, through the perfect ring in the ceiling. Chatter immediately silenced as the Great Swords synchronised into a loud hum, the gems flaring in multicoloured energy, tendrils reaching for their neighbours and connecting with loud snapping gongs, information and experiences each sword had acquired since the last meeting coiling and condensing in tight, blue hued rings of energy around the tiers of Knights. Every Knight bar Axe and himself was always in a different seat, as per the Sword's demands for new experiences and information to fuel their questionable sentience.

"Second Order. You may bring your debate to the light." Dai Atlas boomed as his own Great Sword, Battle Cry of the Gods, let out an equally loud deep gong, the Exchange between itself and those in the tier finished for another orn, the gems of all Great Swords quietening, the information rings dissipating into the atmosphere with the tang of charged air.

"Drift returns to the circle." An ancient mech croaked out from the tier above them, directly to his right, sending the crowd around them into a brief lull of meaningless noise.

"And the Circle welcomes him back into the light." A femme crooned out serenely from next to Axe, all optics ritualistically seeking out the speaker and giving them their attention. "The youngling deserves it, does he not? Did he not help us defend our home, our utopia?"

Another mess of garbled noise, signalled conflicted answers, mutters of 'One of us was lost to the Well because of his foolishness, one too many.' rippling around the circle, taunting Axe's audios as he shuddered in his turmoil, starting slightly as Dai Atlas, reached over and grasped his servo tightly, humming a soft, calming tune in an effort to sooth the black and gold mech, 'Hush my love. It will be over soon.'

As the white noise around them continued, several mechs delving into heated discussions about the pros and cons of having Drift among the populace once more, some of the louder mechs and femmes half shouting across the room to others who didn't see things their way. Dai Atlas remained silent, his optics tracing random patterns through the blue crystal circle on the floor. "Dai Atlas," Axe muttered, reaching over to nudge his plating with a gentle servo after a few breems. "The Council is ready to Vote."

"Your votes?" he asked tiredly, surprising his mate by leaning in to his warily supportive touch.

Many of the Elder Knights paused, some staring with an acute attentiveness rarely seen outside a battlefield, before Mother, directly to Dai Atlas' right, set off the voting…

_**===Drift===**_

Sighing miserably at the fourth misunderstanding between the curious populace of the city and the Wreckers, he was a nano-click away from just begging the Knights around him to knock out the Autobots and drag them to the Citadel where they could do no damage.

This time it had been a small youngling, trotting up to them with bright curious optics at the heavily armed mechs surrounded by the wary Knights. His little red optics taking them in with an intelligent gaze that Springer didn't like the look of, taking a swat at the youngster that gave a squeak of confusion and bewildered hurt that his curiosity had been rejected. Unfortunately, the youngling's sire, the Knight to his immediate right, growled in offence, barking a low warning as his Great Sword hissed with energy, a stray tendril of energy zapping the green Wrecker in his shoulder, numbing the complete arm with a painful jolt.

The white ex-Decpticon suddenly found himself playing mediator between the insulted Knight and the now angry Springer, both admittedly larger mechs staring each other down with disdainful gazes. And if he was truthful, both warriors were pretty evenly matched, Springer with his extensive front line battle experience and the Knight with his pure raw power with his blades and Great Sword energy.

Soar, the slagger, actually put his status as a Master rank Knight to good use and intervened with a dark commanding rumble that, had it been a few octaves lower could have completely mimicked the attention grabbing sounds of Dai Atlas. "Back off outsider, you were in the wrong. To raise a servo against the young in this city is a serious offence."

Drift silently groaned in mortification as a few of the other Knights turned a suspicious optic on him, clearly wanting to ask if he had reverted back to his more barbaric ways, forgetting all that Wing had taught him. Figures he would make a bad impression before even meeting Dai Atlas again, he seriously hoped the giant mech wouldn't back hand him across the jaw again for the transgression, the phantom ache had only just faded a few deca-orns ago. Even though the Triple Changer had given him Wing's Great Sword and had called him Knight, he got the distinct impression that the ancient titan still didn't actually like him. After he had left the city and joined the Wreckers, he had just put it down to a grudging acceptance in honour of Wing's memory and efforts to rehabilitate him into society.

As he waited for Soar to stop spewing rules and regulations to a now beyond irritated looking Springer and the Wreckers, he spotted the most unlikely of Knights walking towards them, the nosy members of the populace dispersing for him to approach.

"Sprocket." He greeted, a warmer note colouring his usual bitter/neutral voice as the black, violet tribal tattooed Glider reached them, clasping his forearm plating in a traditional Cybertronian greeting, one of the first things that both Wing and his friends had taught him.

"Drift, it is good to see you, my friend." The mech grinned, his ruby optics glinting in good humour and truthful pleasure at actually being in Drift's presence, instead of the outright hostile tolerance that Soar had displayed. "It has been too long."

"Not long enough, if you're still happy to see me." Drift snorted rolling his optics, gesturing to where Kup and Springer were now trying to intimidate Soar and the other Knights in the patrol. "Mind helping me out? I want to get this meeting with Dai Atlas and council over with sooner rather than later."

The black mech offered him an amused flash of his optics before he addressed his fellow silver Knight with a low, barely restrained note of annoyance. "Master Knight Soar, the Council waits our visitors presence."

Soar, upon seeing that Sprocket was currently mingling, flared his helm spikes in an attempted show of dominance, "I am well aware of that Master Knight Sprocket. I am currently laying ground rules for these… outsiders."

"That should have been done before they even got past the gates." The glider mech snapped, optics glinting with a hidden threat, "Get them moving, we are drawing a crowd."

True enough, various members of the public were crowding ever closer to the disturbance, femmes and mechs with younglings peering with a wary air from around them.

The silver jet scowled at the glider, the two Knights deliberately knocking shoulder struts as Soar led their group on. Drift was sure that he wasn't the only Wrecker to hear the silver mech snarl an insult in Sprocket's audio.

"You alright, Kid?" Kup asked in curiosity when the glider sighed with a world weary flush of his vents.

"I'll live." The tattooed Knight grunted, before keeping in step with Drift as they approached the Citadel. "I must warn you Drift." He muttered, shifting closer to the white Ex-Decepticon so that their conversation was kept between them. "The Circle is currently divided; avoid Soar at all costs during your stay."

"Why?" Drift asked in bewilderment, casting his gaze about him in puzzlement, spotting nothing but a new building site that was currently covered in scaffolding, the builders preparing to add another masterpiece of architecture to the utopia in the sand. "Nothing seems to be wrong."

"Internal affairs," Sprocket said gravely, "The balance of power is trying to shift towards a mech who has even more of a black and white stance than Dai Atlas, who is at least flexible in most subjects. It all started after the deactivation of Wing."

"But that shouldn't be right." The white mech frowned tilting his helm, taking note that the Wreckers were currently behaving several paces in front of him, "Wing was just an ordinary Knight wasn't he?"

Offering the Decepticon a sympathetic, sad smile, Sprocket remained silent, only turning his helm to greet the small, slender frame of Dart, the femme leaning casually on the Citadel's grand door frame, offering her glider partner a small smile, having watched them approach from beyond the magnificent fountain that graced the Citadel's courtyard, where various Knights were doing their chores or meditating under the crystal trees.

"If you would all come with me," The red and white femme exclaimed loudly to the assembled Wreckers, the Knights that had escorted them here, dissipating and scattering into the air, or retreating into the Citadel in a different direction. "The Council of Light will see you now…"


End file.
